Garrett spoke to Dax on the phone and made the arrangements. He knew his old friend wouldn’t let him down. All he needed now was for Darwin to hurry his shit up and Saint to be on his way to a hospital in a medical transport van. He’d never killed a police officer and he didn’t intend to start now. But his shooting skills were good enough that he could use a non-lethal round, like the ones they used themselves in prison, and knock them down and out of commission long enough to get Saint out of there. The cops would suspect the club, but as usual, Garrett didn’t plan on leaving any evidence that could be traced back to any of them.

After he did that, he knew he should try to rest. But the wheels were turning in his head and he couldn’t shut it off. He texted Leanne. “Is Jessie still up?”

A few minutes later her reply was, “Yes, but it’s too late, Garrett. Call tomorrow.” He knew she was still angry with him, and he didn’t blame her, but he needed to talk to his daughter if only for a few seconds.

“Please. I know it’s late and I’m sorry to ask. But please, I’ve had a crappy day. Can I just say goodnight to her?” Normally he would have just been pissed and if he texted back at all, it would have been something nasty and maybe even vulgar. But he was trying this new communicating thing. It was worth a shot. He pictured Leanne’s face as she read the text. He was sure she’d be surprised. He wasn’t sure it would work, until she texted back.

“Fine. Give me a minute to take the phone up. I’ll have her call you.”

Garrett smiled and told himself, “More flies with honey...” The phone rang only seconds later, and as soon as he put it to his ear and heard Jessie’s voice say, “Hi Daddy,” he could feel his troubles being washed away.

“Hi, beautiful. Are you ready for bed?”

“Yeah. Momma says it’s too late for a story.”

“Momma knows best, baby girl. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Why? Did you have a bad dream?” Garrett smiled.

“Yeah, baby. Daddy had a bad dream. But talking to you makes it all better.”

“Good. You can have my dream catcher if you want. I think it’s broken, though.”

He laughed. “Figures, Daddy picked a broken one. You know what, baby girl, how about you and me go out there to the reservation together in a week or two and you can pick out your own.”

“Really? A pink one?”

“Any one you want.”

“Okay. I’ll just try to dream good stuff until then.”

“Me too, baby. Hey, Jess?”

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“You know how much I love you?”

She didn’t answer that question. Maybe it was because his cursory, “I love you too,” usually only followed her sweet declarations of love. He needed to tell her more often. He never wanted her to doubt it. What she said was, “I love you to the moon and back, Daddy.”

With tears in his eyes he said, “That makes me so happy. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you more.”

Garrett was able to lie down after that and get a few hours’ sleep. When he woke up in the morning the first thing he did was place a call to Connecticut, to the only number he had for Vivian. It was an old one, so he wasn’t even sure she would answer. She didn’t, but her sister did.

“Hi, Margie, this is Garrett.”

“Garrett? Vivian’s stepson, Garrett?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“Surprised as hell, that’s how I am. How long has it been since you talked to Vivian?”

“Three years,” he said, “and six months.”

“So, three and a half years and you just call out of the blue. Is this about that letter she got last week? She never told me what you wanted, but she locked herself in her room with it one whole day and then next day she was dragging out all Beau’s old pictures again. Her heart’s been broken too many times, Garrett.”

“I know, Margie. I don’t want to hurt her. But if she’ll talk to me, just this once, I’ll say what I need to say quickly and then I’ll never bother her again...if that’s what she wants.”

Margie sighed heavily and said, “Hold on.” Garrett waited, listening to the sounds of voices over the phone. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but since it was taking so long, he doubted she was going to come to the phone. He was surprised when he heard her say:

“Hello?”

“Vivian?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I got your letter. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

He smiled. Vivian shut her emotions down when Beau died. Everything she said now was flat and emotionless. Garrett wasn’t sure if she really was glad or not, but he pushed on. “Thank you, me too. Sending you that letter was an act of cowardice on my part and I wanted to apologize.”

“You didn’t mean the nice things you said about my baby Beau?”

“I meant them. I meant all of it. But I should have said it to you in person, Vivian. I’m sorry I didn’t have the balls to do that.”

“It doesn’t matter how you said it, Garrett. I guess I’m just glad you did. I never blamed you for him dying. I guess what I blamed you for was you not being as devastated as me. I guess that was probably wrong. You were just a kid. But, right or wrong, it made me feel better to know how much you mourned him. So, thank you for telling me...and don’t kill yourself.”

He smiled again. “Okay, Viv, I won’t. Hey, I’m going to be in Connecticut soon...”

“I guess maybe we should just leave it at this, don’t you?”

It made him sad that she didn’t want to see him, but at the same time, he knew she was right. A face to face would just be awkward and uncomfortable for them both. This probably was best. “Okay,” he said, “But maybe someday I could call again, just to make sure you’re doing okay?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, Vivian. Take care.”

“You too.” She ended the call. If Garrett hadn’t known how she was, after Beau died, he would feel like the call had been a waste of time. But he knew that even if she didn’t sound sincere, she was. Otherwise, she would have told him “Fuck off.” Vivian was never one to mince words, even after she lost her capacity to really feel.

After hanging up with her, showering, eating breakfast, and checking in with Paige, he got on his bike and drove out to the nursing home where his Pops lived. He just hoped he was catching him on a good day. The nurse seemed surprised to see him when he told her who he was there to see, but she took him into a day room area and told him she’d be right back. It wasn’t long after when he heard the gravelly, deep voice of the man he’d gotten his height and his stubbornness from. “Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch. You’re alive.” Garrett didn’t have to ask if he got the letter, or if he read it.

“Hey, Pops.” The old man was stooped now with age, but in his prime, he’d been even taller than Garrett, just never as bulky. Now he was even thinner than he’d been when he was younger and his clothes hung off his lanky frame. He was still clean-shaven, and his hair was combed and he wore a belt with his pants and looked like he’d shined his shoes. He was still that old Army guy that Garrett had been so fascinated by as a kid.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, boy! I thought you was dead and I was pissed that nobody was calling me about a funeral.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get that letter.”

“Then how in hell did I get it?”

Garrett smiled. “Divine intervention?”

Garrett watched as the old man’s face filled with pure delight. He threw his head back and laughed. “You are something, boy. You remind me so much of your momma. She was just as defiant and stubborn as you are.”

“I’m sorry, for the troubles I’ve caused you, Pops, and I’m sorry I don’t come here more often.”

The old man waved a hand at him. “Shit, if I didn’t have to come here, I wouldn’t either. I don’t blame you for that, son. But you could call an old man once in a while. I do appreciate you paying for my private room and all that, but I really would like to know you’re alive from time to time.”

“I’ll call more often,” Garrett said. “But I am going to come see you more often too. Maybe we could play some poker like we used to.”

His Pops laughed. “Boy I hope you got better at it, or I’m going to wipe out your bank account.”

Garrett smiled. “I’m better, so you better get out your own checkbook, old man.” His Pops laughed again. It was a nice sound and Garrett couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without hearing it. He’d been joking with the old man, but maybe his being alive to do all of this really was divine intervention...or maybe it was just the intervention of a saint. Either way, hope was blossoming inside of him in a way it never had before.

On his way home from the nursing home Garrett got a call from Darwin. “Monkey said for me to call you. I got the plea hearing moved up to tomorrow.”

“Wow, that’s soon.”

“Yeah, well, there is still the right to due process. Normally I’d try to drag my feet but Monkey and Saint both want this over with. I guess you do too.”

“I want Saint out of jail.”

“And in a hospital...right?” Darwin was a smart guy, almost genius level. He had to know they were planning something, even if he didn’t know the details.

“Right, of course,” Garrett lied. “So, after the hearing tomorrow, how long will it take for sentencing?”

“That’ll be up to the judge. Saint signed for all his medical records to be sent to the court and I already filed for a medical hardship. Since we’re not asking for him to be released altogether and since the state will end up paying for his medical treatment either way, I don’t think he’ll deny it.”

“Good,” Garrett said. Fantastic. “Keep me posted, Darwin, okay?”

“Yep.”

Garrett was on his way home, but it was close to time for Paige to get off work, so instead he stopped at a pizza place, ordered the largest pizza they had, bought a bottle of wine, and then for the first time in his life, he stopped at a flower stand and bought flowers. He probably looked pretty stupid with the pizza box strapped to the back of the bike and flowers hanging out of the saddlebags...but he didn’t care. He just hoped that she liked them and that she still wanted to give this thing between them a chance. He suddenly felt like things were going to be okay. Maybe not that day, or the next...but soon enough. It would be an exercise in patience for a man who didn’t have any...but he was slowly beginning to believe that people really could change.